


Maybe a Clydesdale

by Laramie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy's shoulders hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe a Clydesdale

Jimmy grimaced, rolling his shoulders back and trying to sit up straighter in his chair as he examined his hand of cards. There had been a lot of cases to transport that morning and he feared that he may have pulled a muscle in his neck.

"You alright?"

Jimmy looked up in surprise at Thomas, who sat across the table in the otherwise deserted servants' hall. "Other people's luggage," Jimmy grumbled by way of reply. "I'd never take so many clothes, but I have to hurt meself carryin' theirs."

Thomas gave Jimmy one of his soft, private smiles. "If you were a toff, you'd have so many clothes you'd need a donkey to take them from the car to the house."

Jimmy pulled a face, but could not deny it. He returned his attention to his cards, rubbing his shoulder absently.

"If you want, I - um..." Thomas trailed off.

"What?" Jimmy asked.

"I could..." He broke off again, but got to his feet and rounded the table hesitantly, almost clumsily. He even tripped slightly on a chair leg. "Tell me if I shouldn't," he said. "But..."

Jimmy watched as Thomas reached him, then stiffened in shock as he felt Thomas's hands on his shoulders. The hands stilled.

"Should I stop?" Thomas asked quietly.

"No," Jimmy said, and Thomas's hands began to move again, massaging Jimmy's shoulders firmly.

It felt heavenly on his sore muscles; soothing and strong. It was like something was releasing that had been far too tense. Tight warmth flooded Jimmy's stomach in response to Thomas's hands; one particular part of Jimmy was quickly starting to pay attention. Jimmy found himself pushing against the back of the chair, and even _that_ felt good, the wooden slats digging in on either side of his spine.

He couldn't understand why it was all so marvellous, and yet so uncomfortable. He shouldn't respond this way to a massage, should he? He certainly shouldn't respond this way to a man - to Thomas. And yet he could not bear to tell Thomas to stop; instead, he let his head tip back a little until he felt Thomas's stomach brushing his hair. Then he tipped it back further, until the back of his head was on Thomas's abdomen while Thomas's hands continued massaging Jimmy's shoulders.

From this position, Jimmy could just about see Thomas's face, upside-down and strange-looking as it was. Low light like this did well for him: it made the sharp angles of his face stand out and reflected in his eyes so it looked as though a spark had leapt into them. Which was not to say that he was not handsome all the time, because he was (Jimmy wasn't blind), only that something about seeing Thomas in dim light felt a bit different - special. It made his eyes look warmer. Just now, Thomas's eyes were looking somewhere ahead of him, perhaps at the cards he had abandoned on his own side of the table, though he had glanced down with a slight smile when Jimmy had first looked up. Jimmy watched Thomas studiously avoiding his gaze, then closed his eyes and revelled in the fantastic sensations Thomas's hands were creating.

Jimmy decided to ignore the way his body was reacting. Half-hidden by the table as he was, in dark trousers and limited light, he didn't think Thomas would notice. He didn't think it meant anything, anyway, only that his body was unused to touch; in this job, he might go without touching another human being for days at a time. He tried to breathe deeply and think about disgusting things like Alfred kissing Mrs Patmore but Thomas's touch was too distracting. His hands drifted from their task and caressed Jimmy's neck, then his thumbs traced the corners of his jaw.

Thomas suddenly took a big breath and removed his hands. "Better?" he asked.

Jimmy opened his eyes at the loss of contact to see Thomas backing away. "Yeah," Jimmy replied, reluctant to let the massage stop; but his voice didn't quite work so he had to clear his throat and try again: "Yes. You're good at that. Maybe I could..." He waved one hand nervously. "Return the favour, some time. Thank you."

Thomas gave an impish little smile. "My pleasure."

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't until I'd finished writing this that I realised its similarity with maes' fic. So if you liked this at all I recommend reading her greatly superior one, if you haven't already: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3352229
> 
> Title given in the spirit of Frasier's subtitles.


End file.
